


between the finger and the thumb

by geneeste



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Macha made me do it, Old Fic, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pay No Attention to the Woman Behind the Curtain, ridiculous little thing that’s probably riddled with errors, whatever I made a dick joke I don’t care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25723237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geneeste/pseuds/geneeste
Summary: The moment Blip starts his swing, Ginny knows there’s going to be trouble.
Relationships: Ginny Baker/Mike Lawson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	between the finger and the thumb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MachaSWicket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachaSWicket/gifts).



> This is a tiny fic inspired by [this gif](%E2%80%9C) and probably Macha’s tags. I wrote it ages ago and forgot about it until I came across it just now and decided I must save it.

The moment Blip starts his swing, Ginny knows there’s going to be trouble.

Blip’s always got a ton of power behind his swings, but he’s also able to exert an equal amount of control–all the split-second but vital calculations needed to connect with the baseball, send it down center field, and, hopefully, over the fence.

This time, though, she sees the power but not enough of the control, and she knows Blips must feel it, because his forearms spasm for just a blink of an eye before the bat flies right out of his hands and toward the dugout.

She doesn’t get a glimpse of his dumb face–though she does manage to think about finding the tape of it later–before diving out of the way and to the floor.

Lawson, though, he’s just standing there right next to where she used to be. And then, before she can really process what she’s seeing, he’s flipping a bat– _Blip’s bat_ , knob caught between his fingers–up and over his hand, then holding it out for the ball boy to come retrieve.

“You’re kidding me,” she says to no one in particular.

He’s all nonchalant, wearing those stupid Oakley sunglasses, having barely twitched a muscle.

And _damn_ if it’s not hot as hell.

Right up until he turns that smirking grin that’s somehow _not_ a grin on her. “Never doubt me, Rookie. I know how to handle my wood.”


End file.
